Movement Strategies

That same time has come again,
this anticipation of flight
where the change of location
will become so vast
that my alphabet will be forgotten
and my body will grow accustomed
to different kinds of food,
but these hands will still feel the earth,
my face will recognize the sun.
All I’m waiting for now is the shift,
something so strong
it can only be called blatant
and as I prepare myself
all I give myself are maps and strategies
an enough time to pack my bags.
I want to walk across borders,
between languages,
I want my fingers to learn the language of railings,
something to guide this blind ambition
where places once again become
somewhere to meet,
no longer where I’m from,
or where I’m going
just the moving ground
beneath my worn-out shoes
as a constant, something that can live past the reminder
and flow with the lives
that are ready to survive.

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About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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